


Hurricane heart, hurricane haste

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Force-Sensitive Hux, Friendship, Jedi Ben Solo, Jedi Training, M/M, Mind Control, baby rey fixes all your problems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-02 16:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As the First Order forms in secret, 19-year old Armitage is a model cadet at his father's Academy. But when a rescue mission for captured Force-sensitives accidentally picks him up, Hux is taken on an involuntary joyride to the New Republic.Meanwhile, under the influence of Snoke, padawan Ben Solo edges ever closer to the Dark Side.Watch the New Republic attempt to deal with the mind-snooping, intel-containing, surprisingly worthless political bartering chip called Hux. Maybe he'll make a friend or something.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollycomb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollycomb/gifts).



Just as Hux drifts towards the edge of sleep, the distant wail of a girl rings out.

He lays stock-still. She screams again. And again. He growls and rolls over on his thin mattress, pulling the blanket over his ears. Just his luck. The blanket is as useless as usual, and the sounds seems to emanate from his head itself. His skin crawls, muscles tensing up.

Hux has gotten better at ignoring the cries that randomly emit from the underground levels of the Arkanis Academy, but it’s still the hardest at night. On the upside, there’s nobody to hide his reaction from when he’s in the privacy of his own room. Once, it started in the middle of a combat practice and he lost his focus. For that, he earned a broken rib. For making an embarrassment out of his father’s name in front of the whole class, he earned another.

During the past couple weeks, the loudest voice has been that of a female child. That’s as much as he can tell. He’s never dared to search them out. Since he first began hearing them at age ten, he’s been smart enough to keep his mouth shut about his personal little curse.

Finally, he gets out of bed and begins pulling on his uniform. There’s no way he’ll be getting any sleep with his bones jittering like this. After straightening his tie and meticulously gelling his hair, he slips the tube into his pocket and leaves his room. Being a top cadet in the Academy has certain benefits, among them being his own room and the right to patrol (within-limits) grounds at any time.

As he navigates the Academy, he listens carefully. The north auxiliary hall echoes with the footsteps of a wandering student. A guard in the adjacent passageway grumbles over an embarrassing slip of the tongue he made earlier. Hux adjusts his path to circumvent them both.  

When he steps outside, it’s pitch black and chilly. He lets his feet carry him down the grassy hill - he’s walked this path more than enough times to know it by heart. Soon, he’s striding down the banks of the lake that sits a half mile away. It’s decently-sized, relatively clean, and occasionally used for military exercises.

At the shore, he strips down to his underwear, neatly folds his clothing into a waterproof bag, and feels around for a rock to stow it under. Possessions secured, he wades into the water. The shock of cold immediately distracts him from the distant sounds. As he settles into his stroke, the pleasant tingle of adrenaline sets in. His midnight swims never fail to give him a measure of satisfaction. Ever since he began waking up thrashing from nightmares of drowning, he has taken rare pleasure in stamping out this fear.

To reach the other side quickly, he must swim straight. To swim straight, he must keep his stroke balanced. To stay balanced, he must hold his core and coordinate his breathing. It’s an all-occupying exercise where his only job is to keep pushing on towards an uncertain destination.

Hux likes to think that this is one of his finest skills, and one will eventually lead him to the place in life he deserves. As an added bonus, the swimming has increased his strength and stamina noticeably, giving him an upper hand on his peers.

He pulls himself through the pitch black, letting the rush of the water and the cadence of his breathing consume him fully. As he passes the shallows, the brush of lake weeds on his arms and legs fall away, and he imagines the leagues of water beneath him.

When he reaches the other end of the lake, he staggers out of the water and rests on the shore for a while. Based on the texture of the rocks and sand, he estimates that he is about 160 degrees around the lake from where he began. An insect scuttles across his leg. After a few minutes, when his breathing slows, Hux splashes back into the lake again and begins his swim back.

After only a few strokes, he hears a distant sound of blaster fire.

He treads water, straining to listen. The fire continues, and then there is the unmistakable sound of a large explosion. There is also the unmistakable _sight_ of a large explosion, a white-orange bloom made small by distance.

He turns and swims back to the shore. Hiking up the banks, he begins sprinting back towards the Academy. A particularly sharp rock stabs into his foot and he remembers that he’s left all his clothes behind. No matter. He must return to help defend the Academy.

As he nears the buildings, he can see that one of the entrances has been completely destroyed, flames licking around the edges. Some of their own fighter pilots are in the air, shining bright searchlights over the grounds. Orders are being shouted, but they are lost in the swarm of bodies.

With a shower of sparks, a small entourage breaks out of the entrance. They shoot indiscriminately as they run, somehow avoiding the barrage of fire that is coming from all angles. They’ll be done for soon, Hux thinks, when the fighters spot them. Meanwhile, he crouches into a clump of tall grass, intending to keep an eye on them from a distance.

The searchlights fall onto the fugitives just as they plunge into a sprawling thicket of underbrush, where they are lost again. Hux narrows his eyes, trying to follow a flash of skin. He barely catches the hiss of a falling bomb.

Just as he twists away, the ground erupts with a thunderous boom. A searing pain erupts across his back as he is thrown into the air. He hits the ground hard, dirt showering down on him. As he pulls himself to his elbows, another explosion hits nearby. He manages to drag himself a few lengths away from the flames before collapsing again. He grits his teeth, tears pricking behind his eyes.

A steady _thump-thump-thump_ of subsequent explosions sound in the distance. They’re trying to ring the thicket with fire, he realizes. Clever, but a gamble. The plasma grenades are hot enough to ignite the constantly-damp Arkanis brush. Then, the steam and and smoke created will force the fugitives out of a plotted opening - if they survive. He struggles to his knees, determined to get further away from the spreading fire.

Suddenly, footsteps skid to a stop beside him. A tiny hand materializes on his forearm, pulling him upwards.

“Run!” a little girl shouts, yanking his arm upwards. Stunned, he squints up. Her voice - that voice -

“Rey! Rey!” a muffled voice yells.

“Here!” she shouts.

A dark-haired man bursts out from the smoke, casting about wildly. When he spots Rey, he dashes over and scoops her away from Hux.

“Who are you?” he demands, already backing away.

“He’s coming too!” Rey shrieks from his arms. “Go!”

The man shrugs, cocking his head, before running back off.

Hux stares at them for a moment, and then scrambles to his feet.

They’re sprinting through the tall grass, weaving to a fro as the fighters give chase. Hux’s mind roils. There is no way the fighters can tell who he is. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of white briefs and his obnoxiously orange hair, which is probably caked with mud. He has little doubt that if he breaks from the group, he’ll die.

Then again, if he follows, he’ll probably die too.

With a blast of wind, a craft alights directly in front of them. For an insane second, Hux believes that Brendol is going to step out with a blaster and shoot them all point-blank. But then the bay door lowers, the group makes a beeline, and he realizes that he has gotten himself in even worse trouble.

As the group nears the shuttle, a tall man falls back and forcibly herds them up the gangplank before leaping into the craft and yanking it shut.

“Go! Go! They’re all in!” he yells.

Hux plasters himself to the wall, wide-eyed. The shuttle is packed with bodies, and rocks violently upon each impact from fire. He vaguely registers a sticky moisture from the wall against his back. He cranes his head to look. It’s his own blood.

“How long we got on the shields?” someone shouts over the din.

“Not long enough! Just get us outta here!”

The shuttle snaps into motion, banging Hux’s head against the wall.

He blacks out.

__________

 

Hux awakes with his cheek pressed to the floor. He’s curled up on the floor of the ridiculously tiny shuttle. Just a few feet away, the man who carried the girl sits against the opposite wall with her asleep on his chest. In the light, Hux realizes that he’s more of a boy. Despite the circles under his eyes and the suspicious glare he is currently pinning Hux with, he looks young.

“She says she talked to you at the academy.”

Huxs works his jaw. His mouth tastes foul.

“It was more like an indiscriminate yell,” he offers.

“She says you were the only one who could hear her, but you never tried to help.”

“I…” Hux pauses.

The boy growls threateningly, thunder collecting on his face. “I swear, if you’re some Empire crony that-”

“Now, now,” interrupts the pilot, not turning from the dashboard. “Is that any way to introduce yourself?”

“ _Mom_ ,” the boy grumbles.  After a moment, he looks at Hux again. “Fine. My name is Poe. Poe Dameron. That’s… Lieutenant Shara Bey of the New Republic,” the woman chuckles, “that’s Sinjir,” he nods to the taller man, “this is Rey,” he says, gesturing towards the girl, “and he won’t tell us his name,” he says, jerking his chin to the side.

A skinny, sandy-haired boy stares out the window, refusing to make eye contact. Sinjir looks up helplessly from his side.

“And you are?” Poe prompts.

“Armitage Hux.”

Poe gives him an appraising look, but doesn’t seem to have any particular response to his surname. Still, Hux internally kicks himself for blurting it out. Whether the Poe is aware of it or not, his father is probably hated in the New Republic.  

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“Coruscant,” says Poe.

Hux hides his jolt of panic. _Straight into the lylek’s nest._ He’ll be ripped to shreds.

"You ever been?" 

"No," Hux says. "I've not... been able to travel much." 

"Oh," Poe says with some disappointment. "Have you always lived on Arkanis?" 

"Since I was six," Hux replies. There's seems to be little risk in divulging these useless little facts. If it warms them to him, then all the better. 

"How old are you now?"

"Nineteen."

Poe raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement. "I'm sixteen."

"Do you...go to school?" Hux asks. He feels ridiculous, grasping at threads of conversation with some boy he has nothing in common with, but Poe doesn't seem to mind. 

"I go to flight school," Poe says proudly. "This is my first official year, but I've been flying since I was twelve." 

Hux attempts to look only mildly impressed. He's learned mechanics and flown simulations, but he's never been allowed to pilot anything on his own before. No students at the Academy, not even the cadets, are allowed to. 

"How about you? Running away from school?"

"Yes," Hux decides. Better to sound like a willing accomplice.

"Why?" 

"I didn't like it there," Hux ad-libs. "Didn't like getting my whole life shoved down my throat."

"Well then I guess you must be alright," Poe says. "I hear they're all maniacs over there, still loyal to the Empire." 

"Not me," says Hux. 

Over the next few minutes, a lull of silence settles over the ship. He observes the moods of the other passengers. Lieutenant Bey, who is tapping something out on the dashboard, seems relaxed and focused. Poe is distracted, probably thinking about Coruscant. Rey is twitching in discomfort as she sleeps. Sinjir is fruitlessly attempting to converse with the boy, who is still staring blankly, trapped in a maelstrom of his own worries and fears.

Hux considers the shuttle. It doesn’t seem too difficult to fly, and if he takes her son hostage, he might be able to blackmail the pilot into flying them back to Arkanis. He imagines his father’s reaction to him walking out of the shuttle with five prisoners he captured in only his underwear and suppresses a smile. The alternative - being taken to Coruscant - is unacceptable. He's already among military personnel. The moment they look up his name, he'll be locked up. If he's lucky, he might get ransomed. If he's not... Well, either way, his life will be over. 

Gingerly, he rolls to his stomach on the pretense of getting off his injured back. He winces as the movement, which sets loose a fresh wave of pain. When he shifts, he turns a bit closer to the Lieutenant. Then, he waits a few minutes, breathing ever-slower to mimic sleep.

Hux springs off the ground, reaching for the blaster.

His fingertips barely curl around the grip when she spins and kicks him in the chest. Barely a moment after his back hits the wall, Poe is on him, flipping him over into a headlock. His struggle is rapidly foiled when Poe digs an elbow into the worst of his back wounds. Hux screams, arching away. When the spots fade from his vision, he is met with the one-eyed stare of Lieutenant Bey’s blaster.

Across the shuttle, Rey, squeaks, “Poe?”

“One moment, sweetie,” he says. “I’ve got something to deal with first.”

Hux spends the remainder of the flight cuffed to a railing behind his back. The rail is too high for him to sit down, but also too low for him to stand, so he squats awkwardly, legs and back cramping up something awful. Poe shoots him angry looks while clutching the little girl to his chest.   

When they touch down in Coruscant, Hux is handed over to a contingent of guards who merrily swap out his restraints with an even heavier and tighter pair of handcuffs. As he is marched away, he catches Rey watching him. She looks at him with such sadness that he glances away immediately.

The hangar is enormous, filled with the most colourful variety of people and spacecraft that Hux has ever seen. The stare openly as he passes, and he instinctively sets back his shoulders. He looks around, too, trying to memorize the layout as quickly as he can. It's difficult to believe that this planet used to be the capital of the Empire. 

He is led to a plain, windowless, cell, where he is left for several hours. He takes a piss in the toilet in the corner and laments the lack of a sink. Every movement seems to tug at his back. He wishes he had more clothes, some painkillers, and some water to drink. It’s been nearly two cycles since he last slept.

Maybe the other cadets have noticed his absence by now. Perhaps his father is demanding to know where his son is. It can’t be that much of a mystery, who the extra escapee was. Even if the fighter pilots didn’t recognize him at first, it ought to be quite solvable in hindsight.

Hux eventually lowers himself to his stomach again. It’s a humiliating position, and he really should be standing at attention in case anybody returns. But it’s also the least painful, and he’s afraid that he might faint if he remains standing. Luckily, he doesn’t need to fear falling asleep. There’s too much to contemplate, even though he has no idea where to start.

When the guards return, they escort him to a communal shower, where they watch him clean himself. The water stings his various burns and lacerations, but he’s overwhelmingly grateful to be clean. Unable to resist the thirst, he lets his mouth fill with a few sips of water from the showerhead.

After drying off over the vacuum grate, he is directed towards another faceless room. A long metal table sits in the middle, and a tall, humanoid droid stands beside it. It’s sensors blink, and it and turns to face him when he enters.

“Hello. Is this Mister Hux?” it inquires pleasantly.

“Yes,” Hux says.

“Wonderful to meet you, Mister Hux. My name is 62T. I am a surgical droid, directed to treat your injuries and evaluate your health. Please lie facedown on the table.”

Under the watchful eyes of the guards, he uncomfortably clambers onto the table. The guards shuffle closer and Hux tenses. They snap restraints to his wrists and ankles, locking him to the table.

“Is that necessary?” the droid says with a hint of disapproval. “The patient has yet to exhibit signs of aggression.”

“Orders,” a guard says gruffly, and the droid sighs genteelly.

It economically checks Hux over, applying disinfectant to his scratches. Then, it sprays his back with something lovely and numbing before spreading a number of bacta pads over his burns. It’s surprisingly soothing, which causes Hux to yelp when the droid jabs a needle into his arm.

“Do not be alarmed, this is just a blood sample,” 62T reassures, removing the needle and plunging in another one. “And this is our standard immunization for inmates.”

_ Inmates. _ How long is he going to be here? It surely cannot take all that long to schedule an execution. He’s given them plenty reason. 

A few days later, he is surprised to be brought to a glass-partitioned room to see his “legal counsel.” She’s a blonde woman who peppers him with a long list of questions about seemingly everything, by the end of which he is exhausted. It turns out that he is going to be going on trial for “attempted hijacking” and a slew of other possible crimes. From what Hux understands, the cards are stacked against him. And the end of the meeting, he asks if the New Republic has received any correspondence regarding him from Arkanis.

“A message was relayed immediately to the Empire upon your arrival,” she says. “But we have yet to receive reply.”

Two weeks come and pass. There is no news.

The morning of the trial, during his last meeting with his lawyer, she leans forwards seriously.

“Armitage,” she says, despite his continual efforts to get her to stop calling him that. “As your assigned defense, I will be honest with you. As you probably know, relations between the New Republic and the Empire remain poor, despite the peace. Your father’s faction, in particular, is viewed as dangerous. We have also received no communications for your release. We have, however, received threats for the rescue mission. Without the Empire’s cooperation, it simply is not safe for us to send you home.

“And even if what you have told me is all true, there is no way to verify that you are not a spy. The Arkanis Academy is reported to be extremist and brainwashing. It would seem dangerous and irresponsible to release you in the Core. That means that your sentence may be much longer than it should be. However, you will likely have a chance at exile in the future.”

Hux shrugs. So long as he isn’t dead, he’ll be looking for a way to get free.

His trial takes place in a small, mostly-empty room. The only witness who appears is Lieutenant Shara Bey. She is factual but surprisingly sympathetic in her testimony. She even mentions that according to Rey, Hux helped distract the fighters.

Hux’s testimony is dry and perfunctory. He states that he was attempting to avoid fire and more or less was pulled onto the shuttle by accident. He recalls being afraid for his life on the shuttle, and per the advice of his counsel, emphasizes that he was exhausted and injured when he made the attempt for the blaster. He’s not sure that any more flowery attempt to incite the judge’s sympathies won’t backfire.

After, with a complete lack of fanfare, Hux is sent to a new cell, which he shares with four other inmates. His sentence: a hundred years.

 

**_______________**

 

“So Hux is a Sith?” Rey interrupts.

“What? Who?” Luke says, in the middle of his lesson on Jedi history.

“Because he’s not a Jedi,” Rey muses. “And he’s not training to be one either. But he’s not that bad. Master Skywalker, can there be a Sedi? A je… a Jith?” she giggles.

Luke is completely lost and slightly alarmed.

“Maybe he’s just a nothing,” Rey continues thoughtfully. “A nothing from nowhere.” She nods to herself, seemingly satisfied.

“Who is this?”  

“Armitage,” she says cheerily. “The Empire boy we left in Coruscant. He can do mind tricks.”

Luke’s jaw drops. He has some subspace calls to make.

The next day, Luke takes one of his infrequent trips off the planet. He declares his oldest and most responsible apprentices to be the temporary guardians of the day, and drags Ben with him. 

“Is this to make me see Leia again?” Ben demands.

So it’s back to “Leia” again. Not a good sign.

“More so to keep you out of trouble, Ben,” Luke says lightly. “I can’t trust that you won’t rally the others into creating the Even Newer Republic while I’m gone.”

“Of course you don’t,” Ben mutters.

When they arrive in Coruscant, Luke casts out for Leia again. She’s not there, and he sighs internally. There was a small chance, but any chance to force Ben into a room with his parents these days is precious. Ben seems to attempt to check as well, squinting slightly as he concentrates. Based on his stormy expression, he’s unable to sense with any precision through the dense population. The subtle ways of force perception have never been strong in Ben, and neither has been his bond with his mother.

They head to the prison in silence in a public transport. Luke pulls up his hood to conceal his face, and Ben looks like he wishes he had one to hide under. The boy folds himself into the chair tightly, rubbing a hand through his recently-shorn hair and down his padawan braid. But despite his mood, Ben evidently can’t hold in his curiosity for long.

“Uncle, what will we be doing here?”

“Rey informed me that an Empire saboteur that hitched a ride with the Arkanis rescue party is Force-sensitive. I’m here to check on him.”

“What did he do?”

“Attempt to hijack the shuttle. Didn’t seem to make it very far.”

Ben’s interest seems to be piqued, and his mood lifts.

Once inside the prison, they are directed to a visiting room. The room is plain, but worn, with a small glass window set into the wall. On the other side sits an orange-haired man in baggy gray prison garb. Predictably, his eyes widen when he sees Luke Skywalker.

“Skywalker?” he asks incredulously.

“Yes, I am,” Luke says. “And you are?”

“Hux. Armitage Hux,” he replies, still gaping slightly.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Hux,” says Luke. “This is my apprentice, Ben.”

Ben stares across the glass.

Alright.

“Now,” Luke says, “tell me about your Force-sensitivity.”

“My - my what?” says Hux.

“Your Force-sensitivity.” Luke closes his eyes briefly. “I can feel it. It’s weak, but it’s there. What can you do?”

“I’m not… I don’t believe in that drivel.”

“Really,” Luke says. He reaches out again, drifts his mind over the edges of the Force that flows through the man. “Tell me, did you ever hear the calls of other Force-sensitive children who were captured in the Academy?”

Hux frowns. “No.”

There’s a significant spike of distress in his energy. Of course he’s lying. Luke had known the answer before he even asked that question. “Follow me,” Luke nods to Ben meaningfully.

Pulling Ben along with him, Luke sifts through the emotions emanating from Hux, looking for sensations of violence or darkness. He is reassured by what he finds - a very thin grasp towards the Force and a great deal of denial. Luke also casts into the future a little, which is murky but generally unalarming. The prison shouldn’t have anything to worry about, although he will recommend that they keep a continuous rotation of guards attending to him.  _ He’s safe, _ Luke tells Ben. 

When he lets go, Hux is sweating and gritting his teeth. Luke quirks a brow. This is highly unusual for such a noninvasive observation. He must be unusually sensitive. From his court records, it seems that his only experiences with other Force users so far have been negative. 

“How long is your sentence?” Ben asks suddenly. 

“One hundred years,” says Hux. 

Ben narrows his eyes. “That seems unfairly long.” 

Hux laughs shortly. “Well, they can’t just let a potential spy walk free. Who knows where I might go scurrying back to.” 

“Who knows,” Ben mutters. Luke detects a strange surge in his energy.

“We’re done here,” Luke warns, turning to leave. “Let’s go, Ben .” 

“Wait,” he says, walking up closer to the glass. He lies his hands over the holes meant for sound to travel through. “I think…” Luke senses him probing into Hux’s energies again.

“Ben,” Luke says with an edge. 

And then Luke is struck with shock when a huge amount of Force disturbance jumps across Ben to Hux. Hux screams, doubling over, and Luke leaps towards Ben, slamming at both his apprentice and the unholy connection he has just created. 

Somehow, Ben resists. His determination in the moment feels gargantuan and unscalable. And then mere seconds after it began, it’s over. Ben drops his hand and Hux falls out of his chair, unconscious. Luke staggers away. 

The last of the shattered glass tinkles to the floor, and Ben barely spares it a glance. 

“Uncle,” he says earnestly. “You’re right! He’s harmless. He isn’t a spy. I removed the knowledge about the Empire from his mind, and it seems useful. Is Mother on-planet? I’ll tell her myself.” 

Luke stares at him. 

He doesn’t know how to explain to Ben what he just did. How he just involuntarily entered another Force user’s mind, searched for information, and removed that information with enough power to knock them out. How this act  _ fundamentally violates _ the Jedi laws that he has been teaching the boy for years. 

It is the single largest, most disturbing usage of the Dark Side that Luke has ever seen in his apprentices. 

He points. “Out.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's problem

**About One Year Later**

 

Ben drags the boulder upwards, willing it to balance on the stone that juts out from the ocean.

 _Feel the center of boulder,_ Luke had said. _Feel the center of the rock. Let them meet, and the two can balance for a thousand years._

The boulder wobbles for a moment before crashing down in a spray of water. He snarls, glancing over the mountain outcrop behind him before uncrossing his legs and standing up. It’s been three hours. This exercise is stupid and pointless. He is sixteen, and all Luke has taught him to do for the past several years is make increasingly bigger rock sculptures.

 _What a shame,_ a voice murmurs in his head. He jumps a little. _Don’t be startled,_ it soothes. _I was just meditating and I felt your frustration. Your emotions are so strong, young one._

 _Hello,_ Ben thinks back. _I’m sorry for disturbing you._

_I was not disturbed. Why don’t you try something different with that rock?_

Ben sits up. _What?_

_Such as lifting it._

_That’s easy,_ Ben thinks, reaching out and levitating the boulder high out of the water.

 _No, no that one._ Ben drops the boulder, and it cracks. _The larger one._

Ben furrows his brow in interest, reaching for the larger rock. It is even bigger than it appears, under the water, and is firmly anchored by mud and stone. It takes several minutes for him finally pull it out above the surface of the water. There it hovers, like a small island.

_Good. Now lift it._

_How high?_

_As high as you can._

Ben grins. Luke would doubtlessly make this into some kind of elaborate exercise where he must make the rock do somersaults in the air while contemplating the meaning of life, but coming from his other master, it is a simple challenge.

He launches the rock upwards, pushing at it with all his might. It’s so heavy, but he can do it. He’s probably the only apprentice on this island who can. He lifts it higher and higher, as it gets smaller in the sky.

Suddenly, he sees another pinprick in the sky, growing size. He cranes his head, watching it near. It’s a ship. A small one. Based on the swerving as it shoots past, far above, the pilot has no idea where to land. They must have never been here before.

Ben lets go of the rock and the mental connection, bounding after the ship.

When he finally finds the clearing where the ship has crashed, the entire population of the Jedi Academy is standing around it. Ben shoulders his way to the front, where Luke stands, gesturing for the students to keep back. Smoke hisses from a rupture in the ship, and the door flies off with a clang.

Ben knows who this is.

A redheaded man in ragged clothing climbs out, staggering towards Luke at first. Then he spots Ben, and turns. He comes face-to-face, breath reeking. At this proximity, Ben notices that his eyes are bloodshot, pupils blown. He’s taller than Ben, and his hair hangs down his forehead as he stares into Ben’s face.

“Give it back,” Hux rasps.

“Give what back,” he says, vaguely aware that this is probably the wrong thing to be saying.

“What you took from me. What you _stole from me!_ ” he roars, grabbing the collar of Ben’s tunic. His fingers brush against Ben’s skin, and he feels the sickly throb of what he’s kept locked away for a year.

The nearest students step forward, ready to pull him off, but Ben holds out an arm. “Fine,” says Ben, ignoring the sudden quaver in his voice. He reaches inside, grasping for that bundle of seething memory that strains to be reunited with its owner. Holding it aside, he reaches for Hux’s mind.

The man immediately howls and crumples to the ground. Ben lets go of the connection immediately.

“Back to your quarters!” Luke shouts at the goggling students. “Now!” They hurry off, looking behind their shoulders.

“You two,” he orders. “With me.”

Ben is left to wait inside Luke’s house while Luke takes Hux with him. The sitting area is small and sparse, with wooden furniture and bantha-hide rug. He’s been here an innumerable amount of times, as Luke attempts to see into his mind without seeing anything at all. In the last year, the conversations have grown even more stilted and uncomfortable. He should have suspected that the prisoner incident would not have ended this easily.

A while later, Luke enters, alone.

“You never told me that you removed the memories entirely from him.”

“I did,” Ben shoots back. “You just misinterpreted it. Where is he?”

Luke sighs. “Cleansing himself. I felt a disturbance in your mind after the incident, but I didn’t realize it was because you were holding the memories themselves.”

Ben says nothing.

“You realize how much trauma you caused him, don’t you? That much information, so violently ripped out.”

“At least he’s free now. That’s all he wanted.” After the visit, he had gotten himself questioned about the intelligence, and sent the holo off to his mother with a note recommending Hux’s release. He had done it partially to spite Luke and partially because he generally hated imprisonment. Hux was released about a year afterwards.

“No, he’s not,” Luke says. “Now that he somehow knows the location of the school, I can’t just let him go.”

“I can just remove it,” Ben says. “Make him forget. Even you could do that.”

“And how will he leave? His ship was destroyed.”

“I don’t know! You or Chewie can fly him out. Or he can fix his ship. Why are you asking me these things? Do you want him to be stuck here or what?”

“I’m trying to make you think about the consequences of your actions!” Luke exclaims. “No matter how well-intentioned, recklessness such as this causes problems! You must be responsible for their outcomes, whether you like it or not.”

“Responsibility,” Ben sneers. “To who? You?”

Before Luke can reply, Hux pokes his head through the door. He’s washed, probably in the ocean, based on the shivering, shaved, and is dressed in a pair of tan pants and a white shirt. He looks wan, but not nearly as deranged as earlier.

Luke releases a deep breath. “Come in, Armitage. We have much to discuss.”

“He prefers Hux,” Ben says. Hux pauses in surprise.

“I do,” he says, when he catches Luke’s look.

“Well then, sit down, Hux” Luke says, nodding towards a chair. “Do you feel sobered?”

“Yes.”

“From what?” Ben asks.

“He had copious amounts of alcohol and narco-spice in his system when he arrived,” Luke explains. “I gave him a tincture to expel and neutralize it. Hux, why was that?”

“I drank a lot,” Hux says flatly. “In the bars, playing dejarik. The spice helped me find this place.” His accent is a lot odder than Ben recalls, now a mix of clipped Core and a swinging Coruscanti dialect.

“How?” Luke asks curiously.

“I don’t know,” Hux says. “It made everything seem clearer.”

Luke contemplates this for a moment. “Can you describe to us what happened to your memory?”

Hux snorts. “Sure. After whatever it was that he did,” he tosses his head towards Ben, “my entire recollection up to that point was kriffed. Things were missing, and I wasn’t sure about half of what happened in my childhood. Names and locations are mostly gone. I don’t know where I lived, or how many people were there. I didn’t know the name of my father until somebody told me.”

If this is supposed to be making Ben feel guilty, it’s not working. Sure, he wasn’t elegant about it, but he did what he meant to do. And now Hux is out of prison, and evidently still has his wits about him. He could stand to show a little appreciation.

Luke nods. “And can you describe how the extraction felt?”

“Bad,” Hux laughs. “Like somebody cracked my head open, tore up my brain, and then shoved half of it back. I was out of my mind for weeks.”

“How about just today, when Ben touched your mind?”

Hux swallows. “Bad.” He hasn’t met Ben’s eyes one time during this conversation.

“I didn’t do anything, though,” Ben says. “I was just looking for you. I barely touched you.”

“Yeah, well it hurt,” Hux says. “What are you going to do now? Throw me back out into space?”

“Do you want us to?” Luke asks.

“I wanted my sanity back,” Hux he says. “But after what he just did, I’m not sure if I still do.”

“There’s something more,” Ben butts in. “He’s sensed something through the Force.” Hux freezes.

“Did the Force lead you here?” Luke asks.

“No,” Hux snorts.

“How did you find this location?”

“I said, I don’t know. A good guess?”

“Remember the feeling of Ben touching your mind,” Luke urges. “Was there a similar sensation telling you to come to these coordinates?”

“What? No, it - I don’t know! I don’t know what you mean - there’s no evidence that any of those myths are any-”

Ben lifts the chair that Hux is sitting in. His knuckles go white on the armrests. When Hux tries to move, Ben locks him in place.

“Does this feel fake to you?” he demands. “The way I reached into your mind and pulled out whatever I-”

“Stop!” Luke shouts. Hux and his chair fall back to the ground with a bang. Luke sighs deeply. “For somebody who has seen most of his life’s memories, you are surprisingly unempathetic, Ben.”

Hux is silent, staring down at the floor. Ben can feel the clench of fear radiating off of him, cutting through the exhaustion.

Luke seems to feel it as well.

“Hux,” he says “I believe we are finished for now. Go to the hut I showed you and rest. We will resume this discussion tomorrow.”

Hux gratefully bolts out of his chair. When Ben rises, Luke raises a hand. “No. I have a task for you.”

Ben lowers himself back down resentfully. If Luke tells him to finish stacking those rocks, he’s going to be disappointed to find that they are both completely shattered.

“Since you created this problem, you will design a solution. You must find a way to restore his memories. And once you have done so, you will remove his memory of this location, and we will send him away.” Luke folds his hands, looking pleased with himself.

“You’re going to trust me to do that?” Ben asks dubiously. “After how he reacted today?”

“I will help you understand why the mind touch causes him so much pain,” Luke says. “And how he discovered the location of this island. I have a theory, but I need to meditate on it. And I want you to meditate on it, too.”

Ben considers this. It sounds awful, but also a lot more interesting than his current Jedi training. “Fine.”

Luke sighs. “I do trust you, Ben.”

Ben knows that isn’t true. But instead he says, “Is that all, Master?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will go meditate now.”

Luke nods, and Ben flees.

____________

 

_I was afraid he would be insane. That I accidentally created a monster that was coming back to haunt me._

_There is nothing to fear, young one. Even monsters can be helpful. Especially those that you create._

Although Ben has been technically relieved from his usual training duties, he starts his morning the same as always. At the crack of dawn, he gets up for the morning run, where he is joined by the fifteen older students. After circling the island, they climb down the sheer eastern cliff with wooden buckets in hand. At the bottom of the cliff, they drop down onto rocks to collect the fresh seawater that crashes below. Buckets filled and clothing soaked with icy water, they scale the cliff one-handed. Every two steps, they switch the bucket to the other hand. The sun beats down as they climb, drying them before soaking them anew in sweat.

When Ben reaches the top, he sits with the other students and purifies his water with the Force, drawing various rods through it to attract particles. Only when the last student is finished do they drink.

As he gulps water, he notices Hux observing from a distance.

Later that day, Luke calls them both in again. This time, Rey is there, perched on a wooden stool. She’s still too young for the Jedi school, so she alternates between living with Luke and the Damerons on Yavin 4. Poe has reportedly taken a great liking to the kid.

“Hux,” Luke begins, “Do you still recieve any sensations from your connection with Rey?”

“Sensations? No,” says Hux.

“Do you still hear her?” Ben clarifies.

Hux frowns. “No?”

“Can you still hear anybody’s thoughts?” Ben asks.

“Hear thoughts?” Hux asks incredulously.

“That’s what you were doing on Arkanis. Did you never realize?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You have no idea about a lot of things,” Ben says, a bit cruelly. “You could feel what other people were feeling,” Ben says. “I know it.”

“Maybe you just thought you were especially perceptive,” Luke suggests.

Hux looks disgruntled at having his past explained to him.

“Maybe,” he allows.

“Rey,” Luke says. “Do you still feel like you can get across to him?”

Rey studies Hux, swinging her little legs above the ground. “Sometimes I feel like I’m calling out to somebody when I’m scared or mad. It doesn’t happen a lot. But I don’t feel like he can hear me. It’s like yelling into a pillow. But he’s on the other side of it.”

Hux looks at Rey quietly.

“I think his lingering connection to Rey, along with his unconscious seeking of his memories is  what led him to this planet,” Luke says. “We must remove both connections, I believe, for your collective wellbeing, and to preserve the secrecy of this location. I meditated on this today, and I believe his memories must be restored to before we attempt to break his bond with Rey. Hux, I expect you to cooperate with Ben.”

Hux nods.

“Go,” Luke says. “I’m sure you two have much to talk about. Ben may already have ideas.”

As they leave, Hux keeps a wide berth from Ben.

“Oh! Uncle Luke!” Ben overhears Rey say as they leave. “Did you see what I made earlier?”

Luke is in no way related to Rey. For some reason, Rey has decided to call him Uncle, even though she doesn’t call Mara and Kes Mother and Father. Luke has happily allowed this. It stirs up a hint of annoyance in Ben.

“So,” Hux says stiffly. “What must I do?” They’re walking aimlessly, having not changed direction since leaving Luke’s house.

“I don’t know yet,” Ben says. “But I think I want to test your ability in the Force first.”

“I said, I can’t do anything,” Hux says with irritation.

“Let’s see,” Ben says.

Ben leads Hux to an area in the foothills and puts Hux through a series of exercises meant for beginners. He feels strange, stepping into the role of teacher. He then has Hux try to push a leaf. Absolutely nothing happens.

Hux colors as he grits his teeth. “Are you sure this is necessary? I’m fairly sure it’s clear that I’m exceptionally weak.”

“Stop saying that,” Ben says. “You need to have faith.”

To Hux’s credit, he shuts up and keeps trying. Finally, the leaf is blown aside by a gust of wind and Hux drops his head into his hands.

“That’s enough,” Ben says. “Let’s go back.”

It’s only mid-afternoon by the time they arrive back in the main village. “Observe the training sessions,” Ben tells Hux. He’s not sure why, but it seems like a good idea. Maybe it will help Hux access his connection to the Force.

Ben meditates that night. And the next night. And the next. He hates it. No solutions to the problem present themselves, besides just shoving the memories straight back into Hux’s head. Given his reactions so far, Ben has a feeling the man won’t survive a second such romp.

Meanwhile, Hux starts going along with the students during their morning run, although he forgoes the bucket on the cliff climb. Even with both hands free, he’s slower than the rest, and by the time he reaches the top, they’ve all finished with the water and left. During the rest of the day, he observes training and takes his meals in his hut. His lanky figure, lacking the customary robes, becomes a common sight lurking around the island. Upon Luke’s request, the other students mostly let him alone.

He still avoids Ben as much as possible, but rarely fails to show up in the distance when Ben is lightsaber sparring.

Luke doesn’t inquire towards Ben’s progress, but he feels the weight of expectation all the same. He hasn’t told Luke yet, but fifteen cycles after Hux arrived, Ben’s still had no success at all in reintroducing Hux’s memories. Nearly every day, Ben has sought him out to attempt something new. But no matter how subtly he tries to slip through Hux’s mind, or how small of a memory he tries to reintroduce, he fails spectacularly. Hux’s mind rejects him so violently that the both of them feel sick.

“Fine,” Hux says, every time Ben requests his attendance. He goes along without resistance, but his growing resentment is clear to Ben, even without any probing of his emotions.

_I can’t figure it out. I don’t know what to do. Luke won’t help me._

_Let me think. I will help you._

_You would do that?_

_Of course._

Ben in lying in bed at night when it comes to him.

_Young one, I will try something for you. There is an approach I could test while he is asleep. But you must let me pass through you to him._

_I will._

_Excellent. I’ll begin now. Don’t be alarmed - it may feel odd._

Ben becomes aware of the queer sensation of a hand pushing through his mind, wearing him like a glove as it stretches out across the village towards Hux. Hux is asleep, tossing and turning. When there is a lull in his agitation, the hand carefully reaches into Hux’s mind, a strand of thought woven through its fingers.

He breaches the surface with no resistance. The thought uncoils itself, floating out and dissolving.

_Well done, young one._

He begins to retreat carefully, triumphant. Suddenly, something lurches from his own mind, straining towards Hux’s. Alarmed, Ben hesitates and the memory shatters his cover.

Hux wakes up with a shout that echoes in Ben’s ears. His mind crashes down and slams Ben out. Ben recoils, wincing as he comes back to himself. He can feel his master’s disappointment seeping through him as the hand retreats.

When he arrives at Hux’s hut, Hux throws the door open with a scowl. Ben steps in and Hux backs up to the edge of his bedroll, standing ramrod straight.

“How bad was it?” Ben demands, lighting the lamp in the corner with a crook of his finger.

“Bad,” Hux says, turning his head to look at the lamp.

“How bad? Can you answer me with more than one word?”

“Terrible! Painful!” Hux bites out. He turns to stare Ben down. “It hurt, alright? Is that what you wanted?”

“I’m not trying to hurt you!” Ben exclaims. “I’ve been meditating on this for weeks! You think I’m messing with you for my own entertainment?”

“Isn’t that what you did the first time?” Hux shoots back.

“I freed you, didn’t I?”

“Not for as long as you keep me here as your - your Jedi experiment!”

“You came here yourself! You must know - you can’t carry on without getting your memory back and severing those bonds.”

“You want to know what I think? I think you’re an insolent, over-powerful child, who’s going to either kill me or drive me mad,” Hux grits out.

“Come on,” Ben scoffs. “You know that I’m not lying. You can feel it. Read my mind and tell me that I want to hurt you.”

“No.”

“Why not? Why are you so afraid of reading people? I know that you used to do it all the time.”

“I just won’t! Can’t you tell why?”

“No!”

Hux lets out an exasperated groan. “I spent my entire childhood blocking out the torture screams that were being shoved into my head! The first experience I have after that is you, ripping apart my entire brain! I feel it every time Rey is scared or upset. Then I was in prison for a year, surrounded by disgusting criminals. Do you think that maybe, just maybe, I have a reason to hate hearing the emotions of others?”

He’s breathing hard after this tirade, and his hands are fisted in his bedclothes. When Ben says nothing, Hux’s fingers loosen, and he drops his eyes, suddenly wary.

After a while, Ben speaks slowly. “I was taught that the Force has three aspects. Sense, Control, and Alter. You’re the strongest in Sensing, even if you’ve pushed it down all your life. You can’t Control at all. But maybe you can Alter.”

“Alter what?”

“Yourself. Your relationship with the Force.”

“And how do I do that?”

“I’ll teach you,” Ben says, having no idea how to teach him. “Meet me after the run tomorrow. We’ll work on it.”

“Fine.”

They stand there, the flame flickering in the silence. Ben goes over and puts it out.

“Good night,” he says, stepping past Hux.

“Good night.”

As Ben opens the door, Hux says quietly, “Just don’t do that again, please.”

Ben pauses. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I won’t. Not until we figure something out. But look, if you keep thinking that I’m going to hurt you, it’s not going to work.”

He departs with the sensation of Hux’s eyes on his back.

 

_________

 

The next morning, Ben waits at the top of the cliff for Hux, after the other padawans have left. He’s saved the water in the bucket that he would normally use to wash his face with after drinking.

When Hux hauls himself over the top of the cliff, Ben offers him the bucket.

“It’s water. Drink it.”

Hux seems like he’s about to make an indignant comment about how he knows, but he only accepts the bucket and drinks.

“Thank you,” he says, handing it back.

They walk out to the stony outcrop, and Ben directs Hux to sit.

“Relax your left arm,” Ben says. He’s mulled this idea over all night, and has high hopes.

Hux frowns suspiciously but does as asked, shifting nervously.

“I’m going to move your arm,” Ben warns. “Don’t resist. You need to become more receptive.”

Hux stills reluctantly.

“Okay,” Ben says. “I’ll start now.”

Concentrating on Hux’s arm, Ben extends his hand. He lets the Force flow through Hux’s arm, feeling the bones and tendons vibrate in his hold. Then he pushes upwards as gently as he can muster, and Hux’s arm floats into the air.

Hux’s face twitches, but he makes no other reaction.

“Good,” Ben whispers. He uncurls Hux’s fingers and turns his palm upwards. Then he bends his elbow, bringing Hux’s hand towards his face. The moment Hux’s fingers brush his own brow, Hux tenses up and Ben lets go. Hux pulls him arm to his chest, exhaling hard.

“Did that hurt?”

“No,” Hux says. “But it felt… strange. To have my arm moving around without my permission.”

“You’ll need to get used to it,” Ben says with more certainty than he really has. “If I let your memories come back to you on their own, they’ll smash everything on their way in. I need to control the movement. And this is the best way I can thinking of practicing it.”

Hux shrugs. “Fine. Am I done?”

“No,” Ben says. “You still resisted. I want to try it again.”

Hux sighs and lets his arm fall to his lap again.

Several cycles later, Ben has managed to get Hux to relax enough to easily move any of his limbs for him. His own dexterity of control has improved greatly, allow him to pick up objects with Hux’s hands. When he turns Hux’s torso to reach for a stick on the ground, Hux winces and Ben lets go.

“What was it?”

“My ribs.” Hux says. “I don’t think it was you, though.”

Puzzled, Ben reaches out, curling his senses into Hux’s chest. Sure enough, he feels the lines of poorly-healed breaks on two of Hux’s right ribs.

“They’re broken. Healed a long time ago, but badly,” he says.

Hux frowns, considering this.

“I’m not sure if I remember.”

“I can check.”

Hux pauses. “Could you?”

“Yes. I’ll do it.”

Ben closes his eyes, turning through the memories that sit in the back of his mind, perfectly preserved. _Broken ribs,_ he thinks. _Accidents. Fighting._

“You were in combat practice,” he says. “You got distracted by a Force-sensitive prisoner and a boy landed a hit you should have blocked. It broke one of your ribs.”

“Yes,” Hux says slowly.

“What happened to the other? I don’t have that,” Ben says.

Hux’s expression darkens. “It’s not important.”

That seems fair. Ben can’t remember all the memories he originally scanned through, and he only took the ones that seemed useful.

Yet, Hux’s relaxation seems to have been ruined, and Ben finishes the session early when it becomes clear that he isn’t getting it back.

 _That was a clever technique,_ the voice tells him that night. _You’re progressing well. There is much for you to learn in these ways._

_Thank you._

_Controlling his body limb by limb is still unwieldy. Remember that this is only a stepping stone to his mind._

_Yes. I am nearly there._

_Soon you will be able to access his mind freely. These abilities that the Jedi fear so much will be under your control._

Ben smiles, his eyes shut in the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> For storytelling reasons, I have adjusted ages to be a tad closer. Chapter 1 begins when Hux is 19, Poe is 17, Ben is 15, and Rey is 9. If you see any glaring mistakes with my understanding of Star Wars, feel free to let me know. I'm no expert. In fact, I'd love to have someone to consult with. 
> 
> Also, full credit goes to hollycomb for the invention of the lake and its affiliated activities. I absolutely love Children Wake Up, and I dearly hope it's ok that I borrowed that.


End file.
